


stay awake

by scribbleddreaming



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: ANGSTY ANGST ANGST, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribbleddreaming/pseuds/scribbleddreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah was the dream; Herbert had only been the distraction. And he should have been wise enough to not believe that Alfred would ever stay. In the end, people leave. They always leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a fool's errand

**Author's Note:**

> Now, this is a story I randomly decided to write at 2 am and am now considering turning into a 3 or 4 parter. Definitely angsty. If you find mistakes, well, I'm German, so I'll take no responsibility lol

Herbert should have known it couldn't last.

He was too old to still be this naive, he realized; to still believe that people will stay if you just care enough, if you love them enough, give them enough little pieces of your soul to cherish until you're empty and exposed. He was an utter fool for ever believing anything would be different. In the end, they always leave.

He had just held onto hope so long, thought that maybe, after the time that had transpired and the things that they had shared, Alfred would actually want to stay if given the choice; that he might hesitate or look back and realize that he wants to be with Herbert more than with that dream of having a happy life with that little brat Sarah.

Herbert wanted to laugh at his own idiocy, but the bitter sound got stuck in his throat. He had known better, he really had. When Alfred first started sneaking into Herbert's coffin and curling his fingers into the satin nightshirt, Herbert was wise enough to not concoct any silly illusions that these are the budding blossoms of love in Alfred's heart. He had known it was loneliness, neediness, longing for comfort Alfred knew Herbert was willing to provide. When Alfred started caressing Herbert's spine with his soft hands, licking cold skin and making it feel warm, moaning meaningless words into his mouth, it was hard to stay strong, but Herbert knew; this is temporary, a fleeting moment of bliss before inevitable reality would crash down on both of them. But when Alfred started smiling gently at him for no reason, kissing the corner of his mouth before falling asleep, laying his hand on top of Herbert's still heart as if he could feel it beat, that's when Herbert lost control of himself. He had fallen so madly and hopelessly in love with that maddeningly addicting boy he had completely forgotten what had driven Alfred to the castle in the first place: Sarah, who had left as soon as she had turned Alfred.

And when she came back to the castle, looking like a matured woman while still being a child, Herbert had felt this little illusion, this slice of fantastical escapism that had lulled him in, shatter around him like glass walls. He had avoided both of them immediately, kept silent at the awkward dinner between the castle's patrons and excused himself as soon as possible. He could feel everyone's looks on him etched into his skin, but he could not care less. Herbert wanted to stave off goodbye as much as he could, for he had already known the second she had walked through the door that he had lost. Well, how could he have ever had a chance of winning against the person that Alfred had been secretly wishing for? Sarah was the dream; Herbert was just the distraction.

While looking out of his window into the dark night, watching Sarah and Alfred load their things into a carriage, he tried his best to blink away the tears threatening to spill out. Herbert was not usually one to hold back tears, unlike many others he saw no weakness in crying, but he knew that he had to be stone to get through this. Rarely had he loved so adamantly as he had loved Alfred and the only way to withstand bidding farewell to the man he could never have is if he stayed cold.

He heard the door creaking open and could immediately sense his father entering the room. Herbert did not turn to him, embarrassed to face his wise father who had probably known this was going to happen and had now come to scold him for giving into his emotions. For a while, the Count was silent, waiting for Herbert to say something, but Herbert kept staring out into the dark, as if it changed anything about the situation to be stoic.

"I hoped he would stay, for your sake."

That's all his father said, voice filled with regret and pity. Herbert bit down on his lip as hard as he could, drawing blood, willing himself to be granite, be impervious to the pain that was threatening to burst out of his chest. He heard his father sigh quietly and turn away, and then only heard the click of the door. Alone again. Alone as always.

Herbert just kept watching Sarah fakely fuss over Alfred, she must have realized that traveling alone without a lapdog was too tedious, while Alfred solemnly heaved baggage into the little carriage the Count had granted them. His father didn't seem to mind too much; in the end, Sarah had just been a toy for him, as Alfred was for her. How unfair it seemed that the one person with real feelings for a person in this got screwed over so royally.

Herbert hated himself for ever letting himself go, for letting Alfred into his heart, into his mind, into his soul, letting Alfred inhabit every little inch of his being to the point that getting rid of him seemed absolutely out of the realm of possibility, although it had to be done. He let out a shuddering sigh. What a pathetic fool I am.

All of a sudden, Alfred turns away from his task at hand and looks around, left and right until finally looking up, meeting Herbert's gaze. Immediately, Herbert's eyes hardened, or at least he hoped that they did, because everything in him wanted to run down and beg Alfred not to go. He thought he could detect something in Alfred's eyes; regret? guilt? pain? He wasn't sure. He could see Alfred breathe heavily and for a few eternities, they just stared at each other, as if they could communicate that way. But, no, Herbert couldn't understand what Alfred was trying to say to him wordlessly, and Herbert had to remain a statue, lest he embarrass himself further than he already has.

Sarah grabbed his arm and ripped him away from that momentary little world they had shared and Alfred finally turned away. Herbert wished he could do the same. It's as if his treacherous heart wanted to soak in every second it could of still seeing Alfred before losing him forever. And now, they finally started boarding the carriage, ready to set off into a new world for both of them and Herbert wished he could burn it all down until it's nothing more than rubble and ashes. Alfred glanced one more time at Herbert before sticking his head back into the carriage that would take them away. He could hear the horses' hooves click away on the ground and before he could realize it, they were already gone.

Herbert suddenly felt empty, like he had been carved out from the inside and all that was left of him was the shell. There was still that voice in his head saying he might return, he might realize that you're the one, he might realize he's in love. But Herbert could not let himself fall for such idiocies anymore. Love, truly devoted love, was something that somehow seemed to be denied to him, and if that was the way it was going to be, he'd have to accept it.

People leave. They always leave.


	2. a dream in grey and red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All he felt when he remembered the castle is regret and endless, painful longing.

Alfred did not miss the gloomy castle that had been his first haven as a vampire. The dark stone walls were imposing, emanating cold and inspiring dread in him. He had often felt like a prisoner, even though he knew he was free to leave whenever he wanted. Once he could see the castle disappear from his sight, bit by bit, he felt liberated of its depressing clutches, excited for all the sights he would see with Sarah by his side.

Finally, he had what he had dreamed of ever since he had laid eyes on her in Transylvania, albeit under different circumstances. Sarah was finally with him and they were going to explore the world together; what did it matter that they would have to cover themselves in the night? They were together.

But over the several weeks and months they spent together, that beautiful illusion Alfred had preserved in the deepest corner of his mind started to crack at the edges. Sarah was not the sweet, innocent girl he had thought her to be; she was a ruthless killer, picking her prey with calculation and killing them mercilessly. She scoffed at Alfred's restraint, saying that they were vampires and therefore allowed to take what they will. She could be incredibly cold and distant, treating Alfred like a stranger, a nuisance, someone you barely tolerate. And the more time went on, Alfred realized that they really were strangers. They had never known each other, not even good enough to be close friends, let alone the soul mates Alfred had believed they were. He was only a companion to while away the time and loneliness she felt once in a while and that is a realization that pained Alfred immensely. He felt like a sleepwalker being roughly awakened from a deep slumber by a punch in the stomach; he had been a complete fool for not immediately seeing the real state of things between them when she had abandoned him in the woods after killing him.

"Why do you look so glum?" Sarah emerged from the bathroom of the little bedroom they shared, primped for a night of hunting and she looked at him sitting on the old bed. Alfred just looked at her soberly, saw the woman she was becoming, a woman he had never seen before in her. He had only seen the pretty girl with the sponge in hand, smiling sweetly at him and he wished so dearly that she had been exactly like he had kept her alive in his head. He sighed quietly and looked away to the floor, hands wringing almost to the point of pain. She huffed indignantly. "Fine, be that way. You know, you would be half as miserable if you finally stopped brooding all the time," was all she said before returning to her beauty routine.

Alfred stayed silent, waiting for her to finish and leave. That's all he hoped for lately, to see as little of her as he possibly could in the limited space they shared. Whenever he looked at her, he could only see his foolishness and failings reflected back to him, mocking him for being the worthless little boy he still was, daydreaming and deluding himself with some perfect little world that could never be reality.

Before he could realize, Sarah had already left their hotel room to roam the streets of the big German city they had randomly chosen as their next target. They had already visited many of the biggest cities of Europe; Paris, London, Vienna, Berlin, so many countless cities and countrysides that Alfred had lost track. The only way they could finance their living is by stealing from their victims and Sarah always managed to lure the most lucrative prey to keep them afloat. They kept running wherever they could, running and running without any aim and Alfred felt restless. He almost missed the security of the castle in Transylvania - almost.

Whenever he thought of the castle now, he did not remember the warm smiles he had shared with its patrons, the wonderfully big library with so many books to explore and comfortable arm chairs to while away the hours in; neither did he remember the nights on the rooftop, seeing the stars as clearly as he had never done before. No, all he remembered were hard, dark eyes that were swimming in tears, staring down at him, a mouth pressed into a tight line as if willing itself not to scream. All he felt when he remembered the castle is regret and endless, painful longing. Alfred did not dare to think about what he longed for; it was all too messy, too much that he did not understand or did not want to understand. He had never been good with feelings and avoiding them was the easiest way to deal with them.

Alfred sighed heavily and decided to go out into the streets, in hope of distracting himself from these unwilled thoughts and emotions. He quickly left the hotel, feeling like he was going to suffocate if he stayed there one more minute and relished the cold night air that cleared his head. He gazed at the people walking down the streets in thick coats, some chattering and laughing to each other, some distracted and in a hurry to get home. Alfred felt overwhelmed by the amount of people he had not expected to be around at nighttime; it was still so hard to resist the smell of blood, the pulse of a vein, but he tried his hardest for as long as he could. He had started accepting that he could not help his nature and tried to find people he thought no one would miss (and it sometimes occurred to him that he could have been a target like that once, alone in the world with no one to look for them). It was still a struggle and he often heard their screams ringing in his head or saw their terrified looks in his mind's eye, etched there for eternity. Killing would never come as easily to him as it does to other vampires; he was just too soft, too weak to be a sufficient killer.

He kept his head low, trying to stay invisible and just kept walking aimlessly through the narrow, barely lit streets of the inner city. He walked and walked, passed numerous people who all looked at him funny, as if they could sense that he was not normal, not human. Or maybe that was all in Alfred's mind. He could not determine.

He kept walking until he felt the early morning arriving, as if he had some innate sense telling him it's time to crawl into a dark corner. Alfred hurried back to the hotel, barely finding his way and found Sarah already lying fast asleep, seemingly sated from a probably successful night for her. She always arranged for them to find a hotel with basement rooms, with little or no windows that could be easily barricaded. Alfred often wondered why she dragged him along in the first place; it wasn't like she needed any help in surviving. Not further contemplating that thought, he quickly dressed into his night clothes and huddled into the little bed next to her. He never touched her; what had been such a desire for him once, now felt hollow and empty. He did not want to touch her and she did not want him to touch her. They just slept beside each other, incredibly close, even though Alfred could believe that oceans were separating them. He turned away from her, closing his eyes and almost immediately falling into a fitful sleep.

When he was still alive, he often pondered on whether vampires could dream and he had often come to the conclusion that, no, dreaming must be impossible when you're dead.

He had been wrong. Alfred dreamed every night, vividly. Most of his dreams were filled with shades of grey and black, with quick red gashes along them, terrified screams and blood running down exposed throats. He heard crying fill the empty silence of his dreams, he saw himself being bitten all over again by Sarah, smelt the copper stench of fresh blood, could see his own terrified eyes dying slowly before him. He reached out, but could not help his human self. Sarah always left him on the cold, wet forest ground, dying in agony and Alfred could feel every twitch of pain, every drop of blood leaving his body. All around him were corpses, former victims, his and Sarah's and far away he could see Herbert standing with the same look he maintained when Alfred had left.

Herbert was completely still, staring at Alfred and Alfred ran, ran as fast as he could and he could feel the blood seeping out of his veins, he was dying and he just wanted to reach him, wanted to touch him and crash into his arms. Alfred screamed loudly, he screamed Herbert's name over and over and he ran and ran and ran until his feet were bleeding, but he was not moving. His human body was dying in front of him and he was dying as well; he felt the excruciating pain bursting in his chest, he felt the fear filling his head and it was getting so hard to breathe. Alfred was pleading now; he screamed "PLEASE SAVE ME! PLEASE HELP ME," but Herbert did not seem to hear him, he did not move, did not flinch. He just stared.

Alfred collapsed, chest heaving, still screaming and screaming until he could scream no more. Finally, Herbert moved. Slowly, he walked over and crouched down to face Alfred. Alfred wanted to sob in relief when he felt Herbert's cold fingers brush away the hair on his face, so gently he wanted to cling to the vampire and never let go. Herbert started bending down towards his face and he could see that his human self was already dead, but there was still hope for him, he knew there was, Herbert was here now and Herbert would save him, and the sun was coming up and he could see the flames licking at Herbert's skin but Herbert did not yell, did not scream, he seemed impervious to the pain but Alfred felt every little bit of it and his heart seemed to burst inside of his chest.

Herbert was inching closer and almost his lips were on Alfred's and "yes, yes, yes" was all Alfred could think. Herbert was burning now and Alfred felt his pain as if it were him who was being consumed by the sun and he knew this was his punishment for leaving Herbert, he had condemned Herbert to death with his own foolishness and he wanted to cry and apologize but his mouth would not open. Herbert fell apart into ashes before their lips could ever meet.

Alfred awoke with a start, almost jumping out of bed. His chest was heaving with deep breaths he did not need (a human habit so hard to get rid of) and Alfred immediately burst into tears, as he always did after that dream. Whenever he used to dream of Herbert, it was in brilliant colors, as if they were both just strokes of paint moving through a timeless space. Herbert had been filled with fiery reds and cool blues, bursting with them and Alfred could feel the tranquil greens and bright yellows blossoming in his chest whenever he had laid eyes on Herbert. Whenever they looked at each other, a myriad of colors erupted between them, every touch of skin left a vibrant imprint. Alfred missed those dreams he had never understood, but that had made him feel incredibly calm and loved for some strange reason.

Tears spilled down his cheeks involuntarily; he hated his emotions getting the best of him, but he could not control the wracking sobs that went through his body. If Sarah noticed, she ignored it, but Alfred could not care less. He had never felt more lonely than in those eternal moments after awakening and he wished he could have the courage to walk into the sun and end his existence. No, he never missed the castle; he only missed the person that had made his existence bearable. Alfred felt longing pull at his insides and soon, he wasn't just crying because of his nightmare; he was also crying for the little blossom of something he had so selfishly trampled without a thought. For there had been something between him and Herbert, and while he could not determine what it had been, he knew he had destroyed something that could have made his dark world just a little bit brighter.

Alfred almost thought he could hear Herbert laughing cruelly in the distance.


	3. if only you wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it would only take years, maybe decades, maybe centuries, but someday, yes, someday, Alfred would just be a vague memory in the deepest, hidden corners of his mind, like a barely remembered dream. He held onto that hope, the only hope he still had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not exactly sure how long this story will end up; not longer than 10 chapters, I'm sure, but I'll have to see where it takes me. This is a bit filler, I apologize.

Herbert had started to grow accustomed to Alfred being gone. It was a slow, arduous and painful process, but Herbert grit his teeth and bore it. What other choice did he have? Alfred was not coming back. He was living out his dream with Sarah. And Herbert was okay with that. He was going to be, at least, someday. It was all a matter of time, he told himself; in a few years, short years, he might have already forgotten Alfred’s face, what his skin felt like under his fingertips, what his lips tasted like. Maybe it would only take years, maybe decades, maybe centuries, but someday, yes, someday, Alfred would just be a vague memory in the deepest, hidden corners of his mind, like a barely remembered dream. He held onto that hope, the only hope he still had.

But, right now, Herbert was forced to live on this way. Sometimes, he awoke from a restless sleep because he felt the emptiness next to him. He’d wonder where Alfred is, for a second, but then he remembered and it felt like being thrown into the bright light of day. Sometimes, he’d walk into the library and in just one split moment he’d expect Alfred to sit there, his brows furrowed while his eyes were trained on some book. Herbert could practically see him sitting in one of the big armchairs or on the floor, could almost smell him, yet the library was always empty. It had gotten better over the several months after Alfred’s departure, but Herbert often caught himself closing his eyes and imagining Alfred’s hands caressing his back, the tiny laugh Herbert could sometimes coax out of him with a well-placed remark or kiss. While the pain had been sharp as a knife buried deeply between his ribs at first, it was now a dull throbbing pain; always there, somehow, but he could forget about it sometimes if he just distracted himself.

Herbert had gotten used to the emptiness he often felt inside of him, the bitterness spreading across his body and lying deep in his bones, covering him with its comforting veneer of numbness. He preferred it to the pain; at least when he felt empty and bitter, he could curse the boy instead of missing him.

He wished he could be angry. He wished he could be furious enough to curse Alfred to death, hate him without any reserve; but Herbert did not have the strength nor the heart to do that. Living in a dark, empty castle gave him enough time to ponder why Alfred would want to leave and in the end, he just couldn’t blame the boy. He was young, in love and utterly, helplessly romantic. Alfred believed in the perseverance of the love Sarah and he supposedly shared. Herbert almost felt bad for him; it was so painfully obvious to anyone except Alfred that Sarah did not love him in the slightest. He was nothing more than a tool to her; someone to carry her bags, do things she doesn’t want to do, while away her boredom. Someday, sooner of later, she would grow tired of him and abandon him somewhere and Alfred would be left behind, heartbroken. Herbert involuntarily felt a twinge of pain in his withered heart for the boy and he cursed himself for it immediately. Alfred was not his concern anymore, he had made his choice and had cut himself out of Herbert’s life. If only it were that easy for Herbert to do the same.

But then again, he had always loved too hard and too much. He had smothered so many animals to death with his love and care, petted little birds but never fed them; he had a penchant for drowning others in love and nothing more. It was no surprise he had done the same to so many people, including Alfred. Maybe, it was loneliness; maybe it was because he had spent his childhood caught between the world of the living and the world of the dead. He had walked in light and had had a beating heart, but he had always known death and immortality through his father and he had known he would be one of them someday, for he would never have willingly left his father - the one person in his life that had never stopped loving him, never abandoned him. It had been Herbert’s undying loyalty and love to his father that had pushed him into accepting death and the fate of eternity. Sometimes, he regretted his decision; he did not hate his vampire life nor did he curse what it entails, but knowing you’ll have to carry this kind of pain for eternity did suck the fun out of it.

"It is rare I see you so lost in thought,“ his father said half-amused. Herbert turned to him, he had not realized his father had walked in.

"You know me, I don’t like to dwell on thoughts. Thoughts are like anchors, they weigh you down,“ Herbert quipped with a fake grin and straightened up in his chair. „You should take that to heart, father. Maybe if you stopped thinking so much, you would not hang around the graveyard so often.“

The Count chuckled quietly. "Yes, if only it were that easy, am I right, my son?“

Herbert swallowed hardly. Of course, his father knew him better than anyone else. He knew when Herbert was happy and when he was miserable and he could never hide anything from his father. Herbert stayed silent; there was nothing to say.

His father sat down in the chair next to him and said nothing.

"If I had known you would grow this attached to the boy, I would have never let him back into the castle.“

Herbert smiled sadly. "You should have warned me.“

His father sighed. "Yes, that is indeed a thing I should have done. I was foolish enough to believe that maybe you two were on equal ground emotionally. But, I should have known better. I know you too well.“

Herbert pushed away tears. "It is no matter now; he is gone. And soon, my feelings for him will be as well, I’m sure of it.“

The Count laid one hand on Herbert’s arm and squeezed it slightly. "Remember, my son: There is no use in crying over people who cannot love you.“

Herbert wanted to laugh. As if he didn’t know that already! He cursed his heart for never listening to his head.

"Yes, father, there really is no use in crying over anyone nowadays,“ Herbert replied bitterly. His father sighed heavily again and raised from the chair. He probably knew there was no getting through to his son in this state; Herbert had always been one to battle his emotions alone, as exampled by his father. The Count only wished he could somehow help his suffering son. He slowly walked out of the large room, one of the many large, cold rooms in the castle.

Herbert remained in the room, alone. He wished he could silence his heart that felt like it was going to beat out of his chest; it was quite ironic how heartbreak could make his heart feel so alive. But then again, so did love. Alfred seemed to have that effect on him, somehow.

Herbert knew it was going to be a very long process. He just did not know how much longer he could sit, passively, waiting for the pain to go away.


	4. indecision

They were in London again. Sarah had insisted on going back there, saying the city was large enough for them to roam it without being noticed as they had been before.

_They were noticed in one of the smaller cities they had journeyed to; after several people went missing (mostly due to Sarah and Alfred having a fight and her furiously just sucking people dry without thinking properly), the townspeople started to latch onto the weird travelers that never went out at day and were incredibly pale. One night, they came in, actual pitchforks and torches in hand. Sarah and Alfred barely escaped and Sarah had to kill two other people in the process. Both of them were worse for wear for it; Alfred had burn scars over his arms and his neck, Sarah was lashed by the flames on several places of her body as well. They had had another big fight afterwards once they felt safe in the deep woods._

_"What were you thinking, Sarah?! We almost got killed!“ Alfred shouted angrily. He found himself getting angry with her more and more, because she had no impulse control; she never thought before making a move, never spared a single momentary thought to the danger that always surrounded them. He often felt himself wanting to scream some sense into her. "People aren’t as stupid as you think they are! They are getting aware of our kind and how to fight us! You never think!“ he yelled._

_"Oh, Alfred, calm down!“ Sarah groaned tiredly. "We’ve never had any problems before, did we?!"_  

_"You think people don’t wonder about us, huh? Are you really naive enough to think that they don’t see that there’s something wrong about us? We may look like them, talk like them, walk like them, but they feel that we’re not like them, Sarah!“ Alfred kept yelling. He had little to no patience for her stupidity left. Over the past few months, the thought of just walking away from her seemed more and more enticing. But whenever he thought of packing his bags, leaving, taking a train somewhere far away (he did not dare to speak out the place that always came to mind, he knew he had no place there anymore) and just starting anew, he felt the guilt rushing through him; he could not just abandon her on her own. There must have been a reason she had come back to Transylvania and asked him to come with her, even if she hadn’t revealed it so far._

_"God, you are so annoying, do you know that, Alfred?“ Sarah replied furiously. "Always trying to hold me back from living! If I had known you would be like this, I could have taken along my father instead, there wouldn’t have been any difference!“_  

_Alfred scoffed. "Yes, it must be so annoying that I don’t worship the ground you walk on anymore. Is that why you wanted me with you? So you could always have an admirer to fall back on?“ he spat._

_She turned to him and her eyes glistened dangerously in the moonlight. She smiled mockingly. "As if you don’t still do that, Alfred. Don’t fool yourself. The only reason you’re still here with me is because you’re in love with me.“_

_Alfred wanted to laugh, wanted to throw back in her face that he had never truly loved her, that he had just been fooling himself, that he…_

_He shook his head and felt all the anger leaving him when he suddenly started thinking of Herbert. Regret started filling his heart, so much regret he could suffocate in it, almost did daily. He had been so good at suppressing his thoughts about the vampire, knowing that thinking about him was only a precursor for pain, guilt and an overwhelming feeling of despair. Whenever he thought of Herbert, dreamed of him, almost felt his cold hands on his arm, his neck, everywhere, Alfred felt so small and stupid, just like he had always been._  

_"If only I still were,“ Alfred replied quietly before turning away from Sarah, trying to hide the crushing feeling of sadness that was pushing down on him. "We need to find a place to stay before we move on. A cave, a shed, anything.“_

_Sarah was silent and he could her eyes burning into his back. They did not speak for the rest of the night._

She was on the prowl again, probably stalking through the small alleys of London, relishing in all the prey she could have. Alfred had already fed, as he had to, and had then immediately gone back to the little abandoned house they had found in the East End. It was cold, dark, wet, and utterly uncomfortable, but it was better than taking the risk of being discovered in a hotel. He did not know how long they would stay this time; maybe they’d stay for longer than a few weeks, considering the size of the city.

Alfred wished they could just stay somewhere, that they weren’t forced to always move on, find another place. He was so tired of it all. It had seemed to exciting at first; he hadn’t seen much of the world yet when he had left Königsberg with the professor and was delighted to finally get out of the backwoods of Transylvania and see all the cities he had read about in books; Paris, Venice, Rome, Berlin, Vienna, London. Well, he had seen them all and so many more and he was just tired. Sarah had already talked of maybe going to America, crossing the ocean and exploring a world they’d never seen. Alfred could not put into words how much he did not want to go there. He did not want to leave Europe; if he did, he would surely never find the courage to come back. 

Oh, he was a fool. He needed to stop thinking that way. Even if he went back there and found him; Herbert would never want to look at him again. And Alfred could not blame him in the least. If Alfred had any semblance of dignity and strength, he would mark that chapter of his eternal life as closed and move on. But Alfred was incapable to do that - he could not fight the feelings that always rushed through him when he thought of Herbert, feeling he still did not fully understand, he could not grasp and form into words as hard as he tried. He was utterly obsessed with the thought of going back and finding him; falling at Herbert’s feet and begging the vampire to let him stay or let him perish where he laid. He did not care if he did die; the need to see Herbert just once more was so overwhelming he could almost hear the blood rush through his veins, pump life into him. Over the long, difficult time apart Alfred had realized that the one time he had felt alive since his death was whenever he was in Herbert’s presence. 

Alfred kept fighting with himself over and over; should he stay or go? Risk it or let it rest? He was so scared of the excruciating pain he’d feel at Herbert’s sure rejection and probable indifference that he had always hesitated before leaving. He was so afraid, but he knew that he had to find out. Let him die at Herbert’s hand, whether it be figuratively or literally; he did not care anymore. Anything would be better than this; barely existing, merely surviving because he was built to do so. Going through the motions, not feeling anything unless he remembered the man who had made him come apart over and over only to fuse him back together. Herbert was his only hope to be alive once more; and if he had to die once more to feel that again, then that was the sacrifice he’d have to make for his mistake.


	5. return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been almost a year since he last saw Alfred, yet his memory lingered on.

"Do you think I’ll need warm clothing for Paris?“ Magda pondered loudly while rummaging through the clothing currently piled on her bed. "You’ve been there before. Is it much colder than here?“

Herbert looked up at her and almost bit out a snarky response, but when he saw the joy and excitement on her face, that got stuck in his throat. He had to remind himself that, unlike to him, this was something new and wonderful she had never experienced before. Also, she did not suffer from heartbreak.

He wished he could share her excitement, and in the split second when his plans to take Magda to Paris materialized, he had felt a twinge of joy at the prospect. Herbert knew he had to get away for a bit, get out of the castle and clear his head; Alfred’s ghost still haunted him, ever-present, never letting Herbert forget. The castle felt like a graveyard to him, more than usual, and he felt like he was choking in there. Some Parisian air with a sprightly Magda might help accelerate the process of getting over his broken heart. It had been almost a year since he last saw Alfred, yet his memory lingered on.

Herbert smiled at the redhead. "It’s not. Take one, though, just to look fashionable.“

He got up from the floor where he was watching Magda scurry around and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "Besides, you won’t need to take too many clothes. We’re going to Paris!“

Magda’s brows furrowed in puzzlement. "Why? Are they into nudity more than other cities?“ she asked half-seriously. Herbert laughed quietly and turned to face her. "No, but they do have impeccable boutiques with beautiful fashion there. A fact we will have to exploit,“ Herbert grinned at her and quickly booped her nose. She smiled back at him before turning to her chaotic suitcase.

Herbert was quite glad for her company lately. At first, he had tried to keep his distance, not exactly knowing or trusting the strange woman he’d never heard of before; but he quickly warmed to her bright and fun personality and quite frankly, he was glad to have some sort of friend in his life he could connect with. She could make him laugh even when he was still quite miserable. Now, his father tried his best to cheer his son up, but he was not exactly a jester and his jokes usually ended up on the awkward side, with only his father chuckling to himself, so having Magda around was a nice change of pace and a welcome distraction from the dull throbbing pain in his insides.

"When are we leaving again?“, Magda inquired.

"Once you’re done packing, my dear,“ Herbert replied playfully. "Everything else is ready and stored in the carriage, you’ve just been pushing this easy task off.“

Magda huffed frustratedly and grabbed a big pile of clothing in both arms and just threw it into the suitcase, then closed it. "There, I’m done.“

"Are you sure?“, Herbert asked amusedly.

"Yes, I’m not patient enough to pack properly. I’ll just rearrange things when we’ve arrived.“

Magda started heaving the trunk out of the room, before Herbert could call Koukol to take over the task. He just followed her across the vast hallways of the castle until they reached the grand foyer where his father was waiting for them with Koukol, who took over the suitcase from Magda. Herbert walked up to his father and was quickly enveloped in a gentle hug. Herbert felt quite sad and worried at leaving his father behind alone; he was worried his father might get into one of his moods and no one would be able to get him out of it. Herbert could tell from the look on his father‘s face that he knew what his son was thinking, and the Count just smiled reassuringly.

"Do not worry about me, my boy. I will be quite alright on my own for a few weeks,“ his father remarked.

"Are you sure you don‘t want to come with us?“ Herbert asked nervously.

"Yes, I‘m sure. You two enjoy your little trip. Do not wreak too much havoc and come back safely,“ he addressed both of them now. His father squeezed his shoulders slightly before letting him go. Herbert knew he should not make too much of a fuss; his father could take care of himself. He knew that.

Slowly, Herbert turned away and followed Magda out into the starry night.

"Now, I hope you packed everything you need my dear, for we cannot-“ Herbert started to say absently while looking back to his father and waving goodbye before being interrupted by Magda.

"Herbert,“ she said with a low voice.

"What is it?“ he turned to her and in the corner of his eye he could see a flash of dark hair and pale skin that looked eerily familiar. He turned to the mysterious person to immediately stop in his tracks.

There stood Alfred, in all his nervous, twitchy glory, with two large duffel bags in hand, looking at Herbert wide-eyed.

Time seemed to stop and for a split-second, the world jumped off its axis, no longer spinning. Herbert could not react, could not fully realize what was happening. He was glad he did not need air for he would surely forget to breathe right this moment.

"H... Hi,“ was all Alfred could squeeze out.

Herbert stayed silent and just stared at the boy. All the feelings he had been trying to push away for the better part of a year came rushing back, filling his veins, heart and mind with fury and adoration, scorn and passion, sorrow and exhilaration, all at the same time. He longed to touch him, feel his fingertips pressing into Alfred‘s skin, yet he also felt the urge to kill Alfred for the pain he wreaked on Herbert. It was too much to handle; too many conflicting emotions fighting for dominance, reason battling against insanity. He felt like his bones were liquid, that only Magda‘s steadying arm on his was holding him up and keeping his body from falling into a million pieces.

Everyone was silent, waiting for Herbert to react; Alfred looked like a wounded gazelle lying in front of a hungry lion, waiting for certain death. He was rather sure that either Herbert was going to kiss him or stake him.

Instead, Herbert opted for a different option.

"Come on, Magda, let‘s go, before it gets too light out,“ was all Herbert spoke in a tight voice before dragging the redhead away to the carriage awaiting them without glancing another look at the confused Alfred, who could only manage to gaze stupidly at the two vampires. They quickly climbed into the little wagon and without wasting much time, they departed.

Alfred wanted to call out to them, stop them, they couldn‘t just leave, not now, but no sound left his mouth. Out of all the scenarios he had pictured over the time of his travel back to the castle, ranging from the most favorable (Herbert jumping into his arms and kissing him wildly) to the least appealing (Herbert literally killing him), this he had not anticipated. He did not even know where they were going or how long they would be gone. Alfred felt like his insides were being pulled apart. He just wanted to have a chance to talk to Herbert, explain his feelings, explain his stupidity, anything. But it was quite clear Herbert did not want to talk to him.

Alfred turned around just to see the Count and his servant standing in front of him and he had to swallow around a lump in his throat. If Herbert was this cold, what would his father be like? He would probably throw him into a dungeon (Did the castle have a dungeon? He was not sure) or ban him away to the other vampires who rot in their graves.

Yet, the Count just sighed heavily, smiled wearily and made a hand motion to Alfred, signaling him to follow him in.

"Don‘t expect him to take you back.“


End file.
